In the Dark
by Scribe Teradia
Summary: A rainy afternoon and a coat closet. Rated for smut. Sequel to A Necessary Evil really, even though it's a different pairing .


**Disclaimer:** I don't own J.K. Rowling's characters, obviously, because Draco would have been cooler if I did.

**Author's Note:** I promised this to SeraphimeRising weeks ago, and she's been so helpful and patient in the interim that here it finally is. Set in the same universe as A Necessary Evil, it takes place after that piece. Love it? Hate it? Review and tell me why!!

**In the Dark**  
by Scribe Teradia

Astoria looked out the window at the clouds darkening the horizon and sighed. So much for a dip in the surf later, there was no way she'd be able to get anyone to go with her in the rain. She turned away from the window and headed for the hallway, intending to locate the kitchen or a house elf for some tea.

When she'd first been invited to join her sister and several of her friends on their weekend holiday, Astoria had been flattered and excited. Daphne had always been a rather overprotective big sister, and she'd only ever seen the others at a distance, even after finally graduating Hogwarts and obtaining a position in Theodore Nott's company. She knew that Daphne was part of Theo's immediate circle of friends, suspected that they were involved in something for which the company was just a front, but her sister always dismissed her questions until she eventually gave up asking. To be included in something with the rest of her sister's friends made her feel like a grown-up, finally (never mind that she'd been of legal age even before graduating two years ago), although she wasn't sure how to react to Draco Malfoy's interest; she'd seen him watching her several times over the last few days, but Daphne had said nothing when Astoria mentioned it to her.

She hummed softly to herself as she walked down the hall, glancing briefly at each closed door and wondering what the etiquette was for exploring a house in which one was a guest. The sound of a door opening after she'd passed it almost escaped her notice, but a second later a hand clamped over her mouth, an arm circling her waist, and she had a glimpse of the hall through an open doorway before the door itself closed again, leaving her in complete darkness with her abductor.

Eyes wide, she fumbled for her wand, but it was tugged from her hand before she could hold it properly. "Shh, Astoria." She couldn't quite identify the voice, though his breath was warm against her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you." His lips brushed against the side of her neck, and she whimpered but ceased her struggling. "Good girl." His hand finally moved away from her mouth, fingers tracing the line of her jaw before moving lower, skimming down her side and coming to rest on her hip.

"Who are you?" she whispered, still unable to identify the voice, her hands resting atop his, trying to determine her mystery man's identity by the shape of his hands in the absence of anything else to go with.

"Does it matter?" he countered. He turned her around, her shoulder brushing against fabric as she was moved. Cloaks, she thought, perhaps an old closet or cloakroom? It would certainly explain the faint odor of old wool and cedar and moth-repelling charms, though not why whoever she was with had chosen this particular location. His lips brushed against hers, and her eyes closed as she leaned toward him.

Astoria's experience with men was limited entirely to the single occasion when one of her third-cousins tried to kiss her under the mistletoe at a family holiday party, and that had been years ago. This kiss was so much different than that one, gentle and sweet, his lips soft against hers. She gave up on trying to identify him by his hands, instead sliding her hands up his chest to his shoulders, before making the terrifically daring move of allowing her lips to part. Her sister would not at all approve of her penchant for romance novels, but Astoria had learned a charm from one of her classmates to alter the covers so that the books appeared to be textbooks, so no one but her former dorm-mates from school knew she read them.

She held her breath, waiting expectantly, her eyes still closed though it made no real difference since the closet was still dark anyway. Seconds ticked by, measured in heartbeats, and she wondered how the books could possibly have been so wrong about this. Then she felt his tongue glide along her lower lip, and she let out another helpless whimper; the sound seemed to encourage him, and his tongue moved further into her mouth, brushing against hers and sending a rush of pleasure through her. He tasted of wine and strawberries and chocolate, and there was the scent of something sharp and spicy when she inhaled, and she moaned into his mouth when she finally put all the pieces together and realized that the man kissing her was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Lifting her hands, she threaded them through his hair; she couldn't see the platinum blond locks, but they felt like silk against her fingers. He groaned into her mouth, then wrenched free of her, planting soft kisses along the line of her jaw until she gasped his name, "Draco."

He froze, and her fingers smoothed his hair back from his face, then traced the lines of his features gingerly. "Please, don't stop," she whispered, trembling just a little as she awaited his response, terrified that he would thrust her back out into the hallway now that she'd confessed that she knew who he was.

"Astoria," he finally murmured, before his lips claimed hers again. There was more aggression to his kiss, this time, his tongue exploring her mouth as his lips moved against hers, and she leaned into him for support. His lips moved to her jaw again, and she whimpered at the feeling of helplessness combined with desire that none of her books had even come close to describing. She shifted slightly, against him, and her eyes went wide when she heard him hiss, felt something hard against her hipbone, and he swore under his breath.

"Is... is that...?" She was at a loss for words, unable to summon the courage to ask him outright about it, dropping a tentative hand to confirm what she suspected.

Draco groaned, his hips moving, the hardness beneath his trousers pressing into her palm, and she felt giddy at the knowledge that he was like this because of _her_. "Astoria," he murmured again, his voice sounding a bit strangled, and she pressed her lips to the side of his neck as her fingers curled around him, giving him a firm stroke through his trousers that had him swearing again.

"Yes, Draco?" she whispered breathlessly, bringing her other hand down to join the first, the better to explore by touch what she was unable to see.

He hissed and groaned, his breath hot on her neck, and then his hands caught hold of hers, pulling them away. "Not yet. Not like this," he said, when she whined in protest. He lifted her hands up, over her head, and she could hear him moving, then felt something circle her wrists, straps of some kind, holding her in place. "Ladies first," he murmured, his lips grazing her cheek and then nipping on her earlobe, his hands sliding down her bare arms and then skimming over her blouse. "I've wanted you for so long, you've no idea," he told her, caressing her through the fabric.

"Ahh... I might," she countered, her voice a thready whisper. No one had ever touched her the way _he_ was touching her, and it felt good, better than she'd ever imagined. He undid the buttons of her blouse slowly, his fingers just barely grazing her skin as they moved downward, and then she felt his mouth on her collarbone, licking and sucking and nibbling, and it she let out a moan. How he managed to find just the right spots in the darkness was a complete mystery, but she decided quickly that she didn't need to really know the answer, so long as he didn't stop.

His hands caressed her breasts through her bra, his mouth still lavishing attention to her collarbone, and she twisted her hands, trying to free them, wanting desperately to touch him. "Patience, Astoria," he murmured, his lips moving downward as his hands reached around to undo the clasp of her bra, loosening it so that he could touch her without the obstacle of clothing in the way. "You'll get your turn, my sweet, that much I promise." He lifted the flimsy material out of the way and latched onto one of her nipples, and her back arched, pushing herself toward him even more as she moaned. He chuckled quietly, and the sound vibrated through her skin, heightening her pleasure.

"I want to touch you," she pleaded, moaning again when his teeth closed around her nipple. There had never been anything in the books to prepare her for the way her body was coming alive under his ministrations, and she wanted desperately to reciprocate, or at the very least direct him lower to where the heat seemed to be pooling just below her stomach.

As if he could read her mind, he dropped a hand to her thigh, inching upward until his fingers brushed against her knickers. She could feel his lips curve against her skin, could picture the smirk on his fine, aristocratic features, and she tried to move herself closer to his hand. "Is this what you want, my sweet?" he asked, his fingers stroking the damp fabric and pushing it against her.

"Yes," she whimpered, her voice catching. "And... your mouth. Please." She remembered an errant comment one of her dorm-mates had made, once, about her boyfriend's oral skill, and the memory had her blushing, making her glad that he couldn't see her in the dark.

His hands moved away, moved up, his fingers curling in the waistband of her knickers and slowly pulling them down, sliding past her knees and lower, caressing her ankles. His mouth left her breast, and for a moment all she could hear was her own ragged breathing, only his hands on her ankles to let her know that he was still there, and she wondered what he was waiting for, what he was thinking. Then his hands slid back up her legs, catching and lifting her thighs, and she had a moment to register that her legs were spread and resting on his shoulders before she felt his mouth on her, warm and wet.

Astoria moaned, her hips moving in response to his mouth, letting the straps support her as she leaned back. He purred against her, the vibration sending a wave of extra pleasure through her, his hands cupping and caressing her backside, supporting her. He teased her slowly, methodically, before falling into a pattern of movement with his tongue and lips and even the occasional grazing of teeth that turned her whimpers to moans and then to soft cries until finally she quivered and shook and writhed against him, crying out his name.

Slowly, gently, he lowered her legs to the floor, his hands sliding past her hips and then upward before he finally claimed her mouth with his once more. He tasted different, and it took her a moment to register that she was tasting herself, on his tongue and lips; the realization had her whimpering into his mouth and trying to get closer to him somehow. His hands trailed up her arms, and then she was finally free, her hands digging into his silky hair as she pressed up against him and ground her hips against his like some wanton vixen straight from the novels her sister would never approve of.

He groaned, his hands on her back to pull her closer, and she could feel his hardness pressing against her, straining against his trousers. She tugged her fingers free of his hair, dropping her hands to fumble at the button and then the zipper, scrabbling at the fabric until he finally let go of her to help, shoving them downward so suddenly that she was surprised when her hand connected with his skin. He buried her face in the crook of her neck and moaned as she gave an experimental stroke with her fingers, marveling at how hot he felt. "Astoria." His whisper was fierce, primal, needy, and she closed her hand around him and stroked again, with more confidence.

She pressed him against her wetness and sucked in a breath, shivering at how good that small contact felt. "I don't know how to do this," she whispered, breathless with nerves suddenly at the prospect of her first time being in a closet, of all things.

"Like this," came his answering rumble, and she felt herself moved again, her back meeting something hard that she thought was probably the door. She didn't have time to think about it, though, because he was lifting her legs again, and she let her knees fall more to the sides, spreading wider the way the women in the books invariably did. Her feet came together at his back, and she crossed her ankles, her hands coming up to catch his shoulders. "It's going to hurt," he whispered, "but just for a moment."

He went slow, at first, and it felt good, but she knew he hadn't really started yet, could tell when he came to the barrier between innocence and true womanhood. She tightened her hands on his shoulders, looking up though it was still too dark for her to see anything of his face, and whispered. "Please, Draco. I want this."

When he thrust again, it was with more force, and it _did_ hurt, though it helped that she was expecting it, so she bit her lip instead of crying out, tried to relax in spite of the pain. "I promise it gets better," he murmured, his fingers brushing against where she was still sensitive from his mouth before he started to move again.

Draco was right, it did get better, and soon enough she was whimpering and moaning and arching her back up away from the door, trying to buck her hips against his though she had limited success with that. Her body came alive again with every movement, and she clung to him as another wave of pleasure washed over her, dimly registering the warmth that came from him just before he slumped against her, pinning her to the door.

It took her several minutes to remember to breathe, and she moved her hands along his back, trying to burn as much of him as she could into her memory. His breathing was ragged, his breath hot against her neck, and she knew his mouth had to be close, turned her head toward it, seeking a kiss. "Draco," she whispered, breathlessly.

He brushed his lips to hers, slowly easing her legs down. "Astoria," he murmured, the tone of his voice sending another rush of pleasure through her.

"Do we have to go back to reality just yet?" she asked, threading her fingers through his hair again.

Draco chuckled, and she wished again that she could see him, wanted to see what he looked like laughing. "As delightful as this has been, it wasn't what I'd intended when I brought you in here."

Astoria went cold all over at the words, her breath catching as dread cooled the fire in her veins. "What do you mean?" She was cursing herself inwardly, telling herself she should have known better than to trust someone like Draco Malfoy, with his reputation.

"Open your eyes," he said, his voice quiet and solemn; she hadn't even realized her eyes were still closed, she'd gotten so used to the darkness.

It took a moment for her to register what she was seeing, the faint light wasn't nearly enough to light up the whole of the closet, barely illuminated his hand. Shock rippled through her, and her mouth opened. "Oh." She hated that she sounded so indifferent, but it was only because she was having trouble breathing properly, the sight of the ring was so unexpected.

"I had planned," Draco explained, carefully, "to ask you properly to marry me."

"In a coat closet?" she asked, still dazed. The light was coming, inexplicably, from the ring itself, a faint glow cast by the enchanted stone set in the silvery band.

"I was running out of options." She could just barely make out his lips, as he spoke, and leaned toward him in order to kiss him again, but he shook his head. "I've been carrying this around for two weeks, waiting for the right moment to get you alone."

"Two weeks?" She stared at him, stunned, then smiled up at him. "Yes."

"You realize I still haven't asked you yet?" He was smirking at her, though, and the light moved as he slid the ring onto her finger.

"You can ask me later. Kiss me again?" she pleaded, leaning toward him again.

"With pleasure." He kissed her gently, but it slowly grew more passionate, heated, and there was a rustling of fabric from all around that she realized was him pulling cloaks off their hangers only after he'd pulled her down to the floor.

The faint glow of the ring lent more mystery to their second coupling, illuminating a patch of skin here, a curve or a line there, and it was some time before rational thought would reassert itself on either side. When she could think in proper sentences again, Astoria murmured, "I've been in love with you for months, you know."

"Have you?" His lips were right by her ear, and the sound of his voice so close made her shiver. "It just so happens that I love you, too." She never expected to hear those words from him, certainly not spoken as sincerely as they were. "Not even your sister knows how much I care for you."

"You've spoken to Daphne?" Astoria was confused by this confession, unsure why he would have consulted her sister, especially since Daphne didn't think very highly of him.

Draco sighed, smoothing her hair away from her face. "It's complicated. I promise to explain everything, Astoria, once we're wed. There will be no more secrets between us, I won't have us ending up like my parents."

Astoria pushed herself up to a sitting position, looking down at the ring glowing softly on her finger. "I don't understand," she said quietly, frowning. "Does this have to do with Theo's company?"

"I'm afraid so." He sat up beside her, and fabric rustled for a moment, then there was more light, this time from his wand, which he must have located in his discarded trousers.

The light made her feel vulnerable, exposed, and she blushed, but she was unable to take her eyes off him, because he was more beautiful than she'd ever imagind. She looked up at his face, saw the worry etched on his features, which were more expressive in that moment than she'd ever seen them. Any doubts that she'd had were swept away, and she leaned in to kiss him, softly. "After the wedding, then."

"There's still time to change your mind."

"Never try to talk a Slytherin out of her heart's desire, you should know that." She watched his face change, the light coming back into his eyes, and grinned at him. "Now put out the light and come kiss me some more, I'm not finished with you yet."

The darkness was immediate, and followed quickly by his mouth on hers, as he pulled her back down to the floor. Eventually, she knew, they'd have to return to the others, but for now she was quite content staying with him in the dark for as long as she could.

**The End**


End file.
